


Bird Brains

by liv_andlet_die



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily Feels, Brothers, Family Shenanigans, Robin - Freeform, Swearing, batbros, batfam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-04 07:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14588115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liv_andlet_die/pseuds/liv_andlet_die
Summary: A series of drabbles containing some of the Robins brotherly antics. Read at your own risk.





	1. Mornings in the Manor

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the many scenarios that pop into my head when I think about these idiots. Purely self-indulgence. Enjoy???

“Long night, buddy?”

Tim groans, his head rising from the crook in his arm to see his big brother smiling down at him sympathetically. They’re in the kitchen at the manor, Tim having just poured his third coffee of the day. He was dozing off in his seat at the island before Dick had walked in, rousing him from his much-needed slumber.

“Yeah, no thanks to you. Where were you?” He grumbles, “Could’ve used some help last night.”

“Sorry, had my own problems over in Bludhaven. Typical invasion -slash- city takeover type shit.” Dick shrugs. “I’m here now, though.”

“Yeah, and what use is that?” Tim mutters in response.

He doesn’t do it quiet enough apparently, as it earns him a half hug/half noogie from his brother. It’s an action that promptly shoves his nose directly into the older man’s armpit.

“Ew, fuck off!” Tim tries to shove him away, but Dick has a tight grip and is far too amused.

He’s also far too chipper for this time of day.

“That’s what you get for being ungrateful, Timbo! I’m here now, and my presence alone should be a blessing.”

Eventually Dick releases him of his own volition, ruffling his hair for good measure as he walks over to the fridge. Tim huffs in frustration, resting his chin back down on his forearm. Dick takes the orange juice out, looks around to make sure Alfred isn’t lurking in the corner, before taking a swig directly from the carton.

“I think we’d all appreciate it if you put that in a glass, Master Richard.”

Dick nearly spits out his mouthful of juice as the butler comes out of the pantry.

“Holy f-! I swear to god, Alfred, you’re worse than Bruce!”

“I have to be, otherwise you’d all get away with your ridiculous habits.”

Tim is cackling, and Dick pouts at the mistreatment. That is, until Alfred plucks the mug of coffee out of Tim’s hand and replaces it with a glass of water.

“Alfred!”

“That goes for you too, Master Timothy. Three cups before noon is pushing it, even for you, young sir.”

Tim is trying not to look outraged at the offence and the effort makes him look constipated, which of course has Dick snickering behind Alfred. Tim glares at him and Dick doesn’t find it at all childish to stick his tongue out at the teenager.

“Okay, how the hell did I end up here overnight?”

The three of them look over to see an extremely bedraggled Jason standing in the doorway. His hair is wild and he’s wearing an old pair of Bruce’s pajamas and not much else, which he doesn’t seem too happy about.

“And why the _fuck_ am I wearing these?”

Tim and Dick try to smother their laughter but don’t do a very good job of it. Jason looks like he’s going to strangle them both.

“Master Jason, I’d really rather you didn’t curse so freely, and I know can’t stop you, but I draw the line in my kitchen.”

Jason has the decency to look a little sheepish. “Sorry, Al…”

Alfred sighs, getting to work on a batch of pancake batter. “You were knocked unconscious during last nights… events. Master Bruce brought you back to the Batcave for examination, but barring a few scrapes there weren’t any adverse affects, so we put you to bed in your old room. You’re wearing a pair of Master Bruce pajamas because I was not comfortable putting you to sleep in your uniform. And before you say anything, I have already seen you in various states of undress, Master Jason, so there’s no need to get huffy about it.”

Jason’s standing there a little dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open as if to argue, but he doesn’t. Tim and Dick glance at each other and last about half a second before they’re both giggling into their respective beverages.

Jason’s mouth presses into a hard line as he walks over to the island next to Tim, picking an apple out of the fruit bowl and taking a huge bite. He moves almost too quickly to notice, and if Tim hadn’t been so tired he would have been able to stop his older brother from snatching the glass of water out of his hand and dumping the contents right over his head.

Tim lets out a strangled cry as he’s drenched, lashing out at Jason, who jumps nimbly out of the way. Dick is holding onto the kitchen counter for support, laughing so hard he’s almost falling over.

“That’s for laughing, Replacement.”

“Dick was laughing too!” Tim sputters, swiping his soaking wet hair out of his eyes.

Jason considers that for a moment, then turns around and whips his apple directly at Dick’s head.

Dick swerves to side and catches it just in time. “Hey!”

“Sorry Dickie, gotta be fair in my punishments.”

“Boys if you don’t start behaving I will ban you from this kitchen.”

 “Sorry Alfred…” They say it unison, as if they’ve had practice.

They have.

The door to the kitchen slams open as a very tired and disgruntled-looking Damian stomps into the room. He doesn’t say a word as he clambers onto the stool at the end of the island.  His hair is sticking up in every direction, making him look like a fluffy chicken.

His three older brothers enjoy about five seconds of uproarious laughter before they’re all scrambling out of the kitchen as five feet of sleep-deprived teenage fury barrels after them.


	2. Brotherly Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick's just a tired big brother, okay?

Dick Grayson is a good big brother. He’s there for his siblings when they need to talk. He bails them out when they’re in trouble. He defends them against Bruce when he’s being unreasonable, but also holds them accountable when they’ve done something wrong.

He’s the shoulder to cry on when they need it. The ‘I’ll be there in ten’ when they have to get away. He’s learned a lot about how to be a good brother since Jason first came into his life.

And yet, despite becoming wise in the ways of big-brotherhood, he’s never quite prepared for his sibling’s shenanigans. Which is why he’s skidding to a halt upon seeing Tim and Damian brawling in the middle of the entrance hall. The rug at the foot of the front door is half-flipped over, a lamp is laying on the floor (surprisingly intact) and Tim currently has Damian in quite the chokehold.

“WHAT THE FUCK GUYS?”

Dick puts his hands on his hips, doing his best disappointed-Bruce impression while trying not to look too entertained by the scene. He can tell neither of them are fighting at full strength, not in any real danger of hurting the other person. He still can’t allow this to go on.

Damian drops down from the hold and judo-flips Tim over his shoulder. That’s not surprising.

What _is_ surprising, and what probably got Tim to drop his defense, is that the kid screams “YEET!” just before throwing his brother to the floor.

Tim hits the ground with a loud ‘oof!’ and he looks up at his little brother with wide-eyes. The wind is clearly knocked out of him, but he manages to rasp out, “When the fuck… what the fuck… yeet??”

Sometimes Dick has to be the grown-up, so he’s pulling Damian up by the scruff of his collar, narrowing avoiding the boy’s kicking legs as he holds him out, away from Tim. “Damian, that’s enough!”

Tim is still reeling. “Seriously, how do you… how do you even know what Vine is?”

“Drake started it!” Damian grumbles, crossing his arms. It makes him look adorable, hanging there by the scruff of his neck, but Dick doesn’t dare say the thought out loud. He’d end up on the floor like Tim.

“Did not.” Tim groans as he pushes himself to his feet.

“Did too!”

“I don’t care who started it, I’m finishing it!” Dick glares at them both, but the look is completely undermined as they both turn to stare at him in disbelief. They glance at each other for a second before bursting into laughter, all thoughts of fighting out the window.

“’I’m finishing it?’” Tim’s mocking him. “When did you turn into a dad?”

Damian’s smirking. “Honestly Grayson, is there something you haven’t told us?”

All of a sudden, his little brothers aren’t even mad at each other anymore, they’re having too much fun roasting him. Not that he can blame them, he’s heard that phrase one too many times after acting up a charity gala.

_‘Well,’_ Dick thinks, ‘ _whatever gets them to bond, I guess_.’

They actually high-five at one point, when Tim reaches out to pluck at Dick’s hairline, searching for gray hairs.

After a few minutes of just taking it, Dick gets tired of the old man jokes. The boys are both so distracted with their snickering comments that they don’t register his movement in time. He promptly scoops them both up, throwing them over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. It would be difficult if they weren’t both so small. Not like he’s saying that out loud, either.

“Wha- Dick!”

“Grayson, I will end you!”

“Yeah right, like you’d kill the one person in this family who actually likes you.”

“Shut up, Drake!”

Dick sighs, carrying them up the stairs and navigating the endless halls of the manor until he’s at the door of Bruce’s office. He kicks the door open, actually managing to startle his father for once as he enters the room. He looks him dead in the eyes as he dumps both boys unceremoniously on the floor.

“Deal with your children, please. I’m going to take a nap.”


	3. DD-Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick is Impossible and Tim is Tired.

“Dick. What the fuck, man.”

Tim lounges on the loveseat in the media room, his legs hanging over the arm as he watches his brother complete the most complex freestyle DDR routine he’s ever seen. Dick moves with ease, twirling around and flipping over the bar as he taps each arrow perfectly to the beat. Tim would be mad if he wasn’t so damn impressed.

If there was anything his big brother wasn’t good at, he’d like to know and use it for blackmail.

The song ends, and Dick does a back walkover off the platform towards him. Show off.

“Your turn, Timbit!”

Tim snorts in response, shaking his head and turning back to the laptop he has propped up on his stomach. His brother’s dancing had distracted him, but he still has work to do. He doesn’t quite know how Dick had managed to convince him to come keep him company in the media room while he “works out”. It was Dick, though, so he probably hadn’t protested too much. No one can resist Dick Grayson’s puppy-dog eyes.

Dick flops down on the floor next to the loveseat, resting his chin on the cushion next to his brother’s face. “C’mon Timmy, we can play together! When was the last time you danced with me?”

“Three months ago, when you kicked my ass to kingdom-come and I swore I’d never play this game with you again.”

Dick pouts. “Timmmyyyyyyyy, c’moooooooon…”

Tim tries hard not to look at his brother. Really, he does. “No.”

“Timmmmmmmyyyyyyyyy…”

“No, Dick…”

“Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaase…?”

Tim closes his eyes, his patience wearing thin, then opens them and glances at his big brother.

Dammit. Puppy-dog eyes.

“Fuck. Fine. _One_ song.”

Dick jumps to his feet, arms thrown in the air in triumph.  “Yes!”

Tim sighs, and slams his laptop shut. He swears sometimes that he could be the older one of the two when Dick got into a mood like this. He just manages to place it down on the couch beside him before Dick is grabbing his hands and pulling him toward the arcade machine. Because of course they have a fully-functioning arcade machine in their ‘media room’. Because Bruce Wayne never half-asses a birthday gift.

“Pick an easy one this time, please.” Tim grumbles, stepping up onto the platform as Dick literally starts _bouncing_ next to him. He doesn’t know how this grown ass man has so much energy.

“What’s the fun in that, though?” Dick grins, hitting buttons to select the difficulty and flicking through songs.

“Being able to feel my feet by the end of it, that’s the fun.”

His brother just laughs, selecting a song that Tim knows isn’t the worst choice. He sighs, leaning back and catching the bar behind him as he gets ready to have his ass handed to him.


	4. Driving with BatDad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little bit of Jason learning to drive. Also Bruce gaining a few extra grey hairs.

“Okay Jay, seat belt on?”

 “Yep.”

“Have you checked your mirrors?”

“Yessir.”

 “Okay, press down on the brake and turn the ignition.”

“Ha! Sweet.”

“Emergency brake?”

“Was on, now off.”

“Check your lines of sight. Check your blind spots, make sure there’s no one around.”

“Bruce, we’re on a private track, there’s no one here.”

“It’s the principle, Jason.”

“Okay, okay… there’s no one.”

 “Alright, now put it in drive and keep your foot on the brake.”

“Done.”

“Lift your foot off the brake, you’ll feel the car start to move on its own.”

“Cooooooool….”

“Feeling okay?”

“Feeling great!”

“Okay, now gently – _gently_ – push down on the gas pedal – _JasonToddIsaidgently!_ ”

“Woooooo!”

_“Jason Peter Todd you stop this car right now!”_

“Ha-haaa! I can’t wait to do that in the Batmobile!”

“You will be doing _no such thing_.”

“Oh, c’mon dad, don’t you trust me?”

“Do you want me to be honest right now?”

“Okay, point taken.”

“Do you want to learn to do this or not?”

“Yes…”

“Okay. Lift your foot off the brake and don’t even _think_ about touching the gas pedal. That pedal is a privilege now, you understand me? The brake is your friend, cherish it.”

“Bruce….”

“Now, turn the wheel slowly to the left.”


	5. Hand in the Cookie Jar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're just a bunch of little shits.

“Damian, if you’d just listen to Jason-“

“I don’t need to listen to this plan to know that it’s stupid.”

“Hey you little shit, if you’ve got something better-“

“Improvising would be better than whatever you’ve come up with.”

“ _That’s_ it!”

Jason’s hands get within inches of Damian’s neck before Dick’s palm is slamming against his chest, halting his movement before he can grab the kid.

“Guys, enough!” He whispers, glaring at his bigger-little brother before throwing the same look at the smaller one. “We’ve got approximately five minutes to do this and if you don’t stop bickering we’re gonna lose our time slot.”

“Well then what do you suggest, Dickhead?” Jason whispers back, but it’s harsh and not nearly quiet enough.

“Well, I say we-“

“Hey guys, what are we doin’?”

Dick, Jason, _and_ Damian all curse under their breath as they nearly jump out of their skin, whipping around to see Tim standing behind them with a cup of coffee and a book tucked under his arm. Their brother is just standing there looking at them as if they aren’t stuffed into the tightest corner of the hallway. As if he didn’t just materialize out of nowhere.

Jason grabs Tim by the shirt and drags him into the huddle, nearly spilling his coffee.

“Hey, what gives!?”

“Now what do we do?” Jason asks the others incredulously, ignoring Tim’s protests. “We can’t let him go, he knows too much. But that means splitting the goods four ways.”

“Guess we’ll have to kill him.”

“Knock it off, Damian.”

“The kid has a point, Dickie.”

“Do I have any say in this? What’s going on??”

“Shut up, Tim. I’m trying to think.” Dick checks his watch, then runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “Alright. Timmy, you’re in on this now whether you like it or not. I didn’t want it to come to this, but it’s too late.”

“Can someone please explain to me what the hell I’ve walked in on?”

“No can do, Timbo, you just gotta go with it. Here’s the plan…”

_______________

 

“How dare you, Todd! _Give it back!_ ”

Damian flips over the banister, chasing after his older brother, who is currently high-tailing it away from the kid with a sketchbook in hand.

“What’s this, kiddo? Your widdle dwawings?” Jason lays the voice on thick, ducking as Damian throws a lampshade at him, the object bouncing off the wall behind him. “You got something to hide, babybird?”

“I will _end_ you, Todd, and this time you’re not coming back!”

Jason skips out of the way as Damian takes a flying leap at him, bounding towards the study. It’s like they’re playing cat-and-mouse, with Jason keeping just out of reach.

Eventually it gets tiring, so Jason turns and plants his feet when Damian gets close enough and just pushes him back by the forehead with one hand. Damian’s arms are flailing as he tries to grab hold of his brother. Jason’s other hand is holding the book up high.

He’s laughing, watching the boy struggle for about five seconds, until Damian lashes out with a leg. It would have been a formidable strike, except he completely misjudges the kick and ends up hitting the doorframe behind Jason with so much force that it cracks halfway up the wall. Both boys look at the damage in shock, forgetting their antics for just a moment, then look at each other in disbelief.

“What on _earth_ is going on out here?”

Suddenly Alfred is in the main hall, apron covered in flour and looking extremely unimpressed with the both of them. Jason drops his hand immediately, causing Damian to stumble forward and almost hit the doorframe he’d just broken.

“Damian did it! I swear it wasn’t me this time!”

Damian looks up at his brother with deep betrayal in his eyes, his mouth gaping open.

“Todd took my sketchbook, I was only trying to get it back!”

“Master Jason, give the boy his book back. I’d really hoped you’d grown up by this point, but clearly you’ve still got some work ahead of you.”

“Sorry Alfie, missed a couple of those formative years, y’know?”

Alfred gives Jason the most withering look he’d ever gotten and suddenly the big bad Red Hood is shrinking down into his hoodie in shame. He glares down at his brother, sketchbook still tight in his hand.

Then he see’s Dick tip-toeing out of the kitchen with Tim in tow, the younger boy holding a massive bowl in both arms. Dick winks at Jason, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Alright. Sorry kiddo, didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers.” Jason tosses the sketchbook to Damian casually, who manages to catch it before it hits the floor. “I mean I did, I just wasn’t planning on getting caught.”

“Never do that again, Todd. You will regret it.”

“Whatever you say, babybird.” Jason sneaks in a hair ruffle, which is quickly swatted away by Damian, before skipping off into a jog to find his other brothers.

Alfred simply shakes his head and turns back towards the kitchen.

Damian, who until this point had been glaring determinedly down at his sketchbook, cranes his neck to see if Alfred is truly gone, then bolts in the same direction as Jason.

_______________

 

“Did you get it!?”

Jason tears into Tim’s bedroom, Damian quick on his heels. Tim’s room was the last place Bruce and Alfred would look, as he was rarely one for these kinds of shenanigans – that they knew of. They both slip inside and close the door behind them. Dick and Tim are sitting on Tim’s bed, the giant bowl from earlier sitting between them.

Dick grins devilishly, “Oh, we got it.”

“Yes!” Jason pumps a fist in the air, then holds out a hand to Damian for a high-five, who considers it for a moment before conceding, though not without an eyeroll.

They join their brothers on the bed, forming a small circle around the bowl. They all grin at each other in cheeky celebration, then dig their fingers into the bowl, coming up with sticky hands full of fresh cookie dough.

 


End file.
